


Of Wine and Company

by Miss_Amby



Series: There's Not a Word Yet for Old Friends Who've Just Met [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crying, Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22318516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Amby/pseuds/Miss_Amby
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale share a night drinking.  Emotions happen.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: There's Not a Word Yet for Old Friends Who've Just Met [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535399
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Of Wine and Company

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by DaphneTheAdipose's comment on how they seemed pretty calm in part one of this series. My brain read the comment and went "They're right! You need to write a thing now."
> 
> This is re-write #3 for this one-shot and I'm still not totally happy with it but I wanted to get it out. Enjoy!

**Before the Ark**

**Mesopotamia**

It was supposed to be a quiet evening for Aziraphale. 

He had planned on staying inside his small tent on the edge of the caravan he was traveling with to the next city, enjoying a quiet night after a full day in the sun. The angel was curled up on his pallet, a journal in his lap as he wrote a letter to send to Crowley later.*

(*No, paper had not been invented yet. But Aziraphale had always followed how the written word was made and remembered all the steps through all the centuries. And this was for himself and his love, not for humans yet, and so shouldn’t be messing with history too much)

Well, then there was an intruder.

Not a very good one mind you. One minute Aziraphale was by himself and the next there was a familiar pair of arms snaking around his shoulders, red curls spilling over his head as a nose nuzzled against his curls. There wasn’t enough time for Aziraphale to go from being confused to shocked as his brain filled in who the person was.

“Hi Angel.”

“Hello my dear. What brings you here tonight? I thought you were over in China?” As he turned around to kiss the demon he noticed a familiar smell on his breath. “Crowley! Where did you get beer from?!”

“I got it from the Chinese! And it’s not beer, it’s wine! Rice and honey and grapes!” Throughout all the years of drinking with Crowley Aziraphale knew he was at the “I can still make complete sentences but one more drink and I won’t be” stage.

“You didn’t tempt them into making wine too early did you? I don’t think the Lord ment this when she said to watch humanity.” Crowley just sent him a glare before pressing a sloppy kiss to his forehead and trying to grab the paper.

“I don’t think the Lord ment this when she said to watch humanity~” he teased back, looking at the top of the page before throwing it over his shoulder and falling into the angel’s lap. “I missed you, can’t you be happy to see me?”

“Wily serpent, I’m always happy to see you.” Aziraphale smirked and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the demon’s lips, “And I would be happier if you shared the wine.” 

With a fond but dramatic sigh Crowley snapped and the wine skin appeared. He handed it over to Aziraphale and he took a gulp before almost spitting it out. Making a face he tried again, this time drinking more before handing it back to the demon.

“I had, dear lord is that foul, I had forgotten how far wine had come.”

“It’s a far cry from Châteauneuf de Pas Angel. But it gets you drunk and that’s what matters.” 

For awhile they passed it back and forth, until they were both lying down on the ground, curled around each other.

“Angel...Aaaannngeeeeellll. How...how did you handle everything up in Heaven? Ya know, went we first got sent back?” Crowley was now at the “I don’t care what comes out of my mouth” stage of drinking, which involved also trying to pin Aziraphale down to the ground with cuddles.

“What...what do you mean?”

“I mean….well I wanted to freak out and cou-couldn’t. What about you?”

Aziraphale laughed, but it wasn’t the fun kind of laugh. It was the kind touched with a bit of manic and bitterness, a good memory turned rancid. “I did what Gabriel asked you of me. “Shut your stupid mouth”. Didn’t...didn’t talk to others. Almost...almost forgot what I sounded like. Kept it aaaaalll bottled up. Was ready to pop when the proto...prototii...practice garden was opened. Didn’t think I would find you there. Was going to go and scream at the world.” He nudged Crowley in the shoulder, “You...you taught me that. To scream at the world. Screaming to let go is nice.” The angel nodded his head to himself before threading his hand into his husband’s curls. “Missed you so much. Found a corner and cried for a while...had to hide that too. Don’t...don’t like hiding anymore.” 

“No, nooooo no no no crying Angel. Don’t, don’t do that. I’m here now, see, all here for you! Brought you the gift of booze and good company!” He turned and patted the angel on his cheek before wrapping his arms around him tightly. “See, all better now.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Crowley noticed how Aziraphale’s body was shaking. It wasn’t a lot but because he had a constrictor like grip on the angel he was able to tell something was wrong. He looked up and saw he was crying, twin streams flowing down his face. Crowley extracted himself from around his partner and rearranged them with Aziraphale now tucked under Crowley’s chin as the demon ran his hand up and down his back.

“Noooooooo, no more...more tears Angel.” He didn’t know what else to say and instead just let his angel cry himself out. It didn’t seem long before Aziraphale was wiping away his tears and pressing a closed mouth kiss to his lips. 

“Sorry dear for that. I guess I wasn’t handling this all that well.”

Crowley shrugged before laying down, dragging Aziraphale with him. “I haven’t been either, don’t think. Hey, are we to crying drunk?”

This got a chuckle out of the angel. “I believe we are my dear. Your turn then?”

Crowley shook his head, “Naw, that’s only if I know you’re gone. Was a right mess at the end of the world, in the bar?” He pulled Aziraphale closer so he could bury his face in his hair. “Would be a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up. But you did! All curls and white robe and standing there like I was the answer to everything.” 

And then he started crying.

It wasn’t like Aziraphale’s, all quiet and silent. It was the ugly kind of crying, the type when you don’t want to cry but it comes out anyway, bubbling up in gunteral sobs. There were tears and by the end Aziraphale had made a piece of cloth appear so he could blow his nose. 

“I don’t think you were as well off as you thought. Come on, let’s sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

They curled up around each other, the pallet on the floor knowing to expand to fit them both. In the morning they would be hungover, complain about forgetting to sober up and swear off drinking* until they untangled themselves from each other. 

(*This didn’t last long)

They wouldn’t talk about their tears and the pain that came from being frightened, just share kisses and touches in the morning to cover up the hurt. There would be centuries before they would feel completely safe again, but until then they would make the best of things.

**Author's Note:**

> Good Omens belongs to Neil Gaiman and Sir Terry Pratchett
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (1/19/20) There will be another one-shot next week and then it will be quiet for a bit before part two starts up.


End file.
